A dance with all my demons...

"Why?" you ask, am I

separated from the rest.

--you wear such a pretty mask--

I shrug.

you tell

we dance

I fell

my heart

you play

they laugh

you stay

I stray.

you tug

and pull

and grasp

and yell

and move

and rush

never, never silent or still

I blush.

you purr

and rasp

and sigh

and gasp

and tantalize

and tempt

and try

and manipulate

your pretty gain

your petty game

I recoil.

I will not be your puppet,

will not let you hold my strings

I will not let you hide my heart

in pettiness and mediocrity

I will not wear your pretty mask,

or let you hold me close

I do not want your promises,

I do not want your lies

I do not want your emptiness

I will not wear your guise.

And so I end your masquerade,

your waltzing through my life,

your wretched, scheming promenade,

your despair-filled din and strife

--you the Piper with your fife!

I know now that separate from the rest

is sometimes for the best.

I turn aside.

Out of darkness,

into Light.